Lazy
by E. Wallace
Summary: Jean-Luc, Beverly, a hammock.


Disclaimer: Paramount owns everything except a romantic soul

Lazy  
by E. Wallace  
1998

The warm sun had made her pleasantly drowsy. The gentle hand caressing her arm helped as well.

"You're starting to turn a bit pink, my love."

Her only response was to snuggle closer, sliding her head from his shoulder to his chest. The movement prompted the hammock to a slow sway, and she sighed contentedly. The rhythmic beat of the heart beneath her cheek was another lulling element.

"Beverly," that wonderful voice slipped into her consciousness again. "We need to go in. Marie is probably waiting dinner for us, and besides, you haven't packed yet."

"Do you think," she slurred softly, "they'd notice if we didn't come back?"

His laugh rumbled in her ear as he cupped her chin, tilting it up. She kept her eyes closed as he kissed her tenderly. "Yes, they would notice. Will would insist on searching for us."

"They know we're here together - Deanna would be leading the charge. Her curiosity would allow nothing less." She rubbed her cheek against his chest, then peeked up at him. "You're the captain, Jean-Luc, you could _order_ us to stay here a few more days."

He tickled her ribs lightly. "And just how do you expect them to run Starfleet without the two of us? I'm amazed they made it through the last ten days."

Beverly giggled, pushing herself up on one elbow. She let her gaze drift over each feature of that face she adored so much. He was so relaxed here in Labarre, going from starship captain to gentleman vintner without hesitation. She had listened attentively as they toured the vineyard, and he gave her spot lessons in tying vines, testing grapes for sugar content and aging. He was so many men - an explorer, a diplomat, an archeologist, a historian, a vintner. And she loved every one of them.

Looking up at her, Jean-Luc's thoughts took a slightly different turn. Beverly, his own personal goddess, set aglow by the sun at her back. The light caught her hair making her already fiery tresses seem to blaze all the more. He reached up to tuck the auburn silk behind one ear, letting the other side hang down to frame her face. His eyes traveled downward, following her creamy throat as it disappeared into the neckline of her dress. And he did like this dress. In fact, she said the reason she bought it was the way his eyes lit up when she tried it on. The floral pattern on a blue background that matched her eyes and of a material almost as soft as her skin. Sleeveless, the bodice hugged every curve down to her hips where the skirt flared out. Retracing the trail back up, his gaze stopped again on the neckline where it cast a shadow on the valley between her breasts. Ah, what that shadow did to his imagination!

"Hey, come back here," she teased as she saw him drifting away on a fantasy.

"I haven't gone anywhere," he replied, though it took a moment for him to re-focus. "I'm right here with you. Always with you."

"So, do you think we've finally learned how to get out of this thing?"

He smiled at the memory of that first time. Beverly had returned from shopping to find him lounging in the hammock. Her mock indignation had turned into a demand for him to make room for her. He welcomed her with open arms, but in their efforts to get comfortable, he had unwittingly caught her skirt underneath him. Later, when she tried to get up, the sudden resistance had thrown her off balance, and they had both ended up on the ground. Laughing until they could hardly breathe then losing their breath again in a passionate kiss.

Every day since, they had managed to spend time together in the hammock. An afternoon here as he told her bits of family history, an evening there, watching the stars from a different perspective, and one glorious sunrise, wrapped in a quilt to ward off the early morning chill. Each time, learning innumerable secrets-including the fact that making love in a hammock was more hazardous than romantic.

He was going to miss this hammock.

Jean-Luc pulled her back down to rest again on his chest, setting the hammock in motion again. One hand rubbed her back, while the other lay lightly on her hip as her legs entwined with his once more. "I think Marie will understand if we're a bit late for dinner."

The End


End file.
